Something Right
by Andi Horton
Summary: CD J/J challenge. Post ATY, pre-Five Years, etc. Syd and Vaughn's upcoming wedding is the least of their worries.


Something Right

O0O0O0O

_With all that I've done wrong, I must have done something right_

_to deserve her love every morning and butterfly kisses at night_

O0O0O0O

He shivered, and checked his watch. They were late. They weren't supposed to be late. It made him nervous.

Maybe he should get out of there.

But then he thought of how her eyes had looked when he had left her. Big, dark, scared eyes.

"Bring him back, Daddy. Promise me you will bring him back."

And he had said, "I promise."

He was wishing now that he hadn't, because it looked like he might not be able to keep his promise. And he knew if he didn't, he might as well not go back either, because if he went back without Vaughn, she'd kill him, and no two ways about it.

But what else could he have said? She'd been a wreck ever since they got the call, not eating or sleeping, and right after planning a whole wedding in less than a month, too- a wedding that was coming up in two days, and one in which she played a vital part. He'd _had_ to say it, and it had worked- she had relaxed, if only fractionally.

But he couldn't relax. Because now there were two things hanging over his head, and she didn't even know about the first- the call he had gotten on his own phone. A mocking, nasty call, insinuating things that had made him drop the receiver and run for the bathroom. Sloane, from some little hole on the other side of the world, where he had fled after Vaughn and Jack had put the run to him after he had shown up at Sydney's place, had called him, and the things he had said were enough to make Jack sick to his stomach.

"How do you know, Jack," he had said, his tone horribly silky, "that she is really yours? I mean, with a wife like you had, it wouldn't be at all surprising if your little girl turned out to _not_ be yours, now, would it?"

It had never been a real suspicion of Jack's. Laura may have been a lot of things, but he didn't think, if she couldn't love her daughter, that she could ever be really amused with another man either. But then, maybe she did love her daughter. After all, when he and Vaughn had rescued Sydney from the warehouse complex, Laura - or Irina, but he could never think of her as that - hadn't taken that shot. So maybe she _could_ have been fooling around, and maybe Sydney _wasn't_ biologically his.

The thought had tormented him, day and night, for the past week. And now . . . this.

Vaughn had disappeared en route to pick up his tuxedo, and the call had come three hours later. Jack had already been at Sydney's apartment when the phone rang, which was just as well, because Sydney had certainly been in no state to speak to the kidnappers. The muffled voice had demanded a meeting with Jack at midnight, in this specific location, and that had been all.

He had never seen Sydney so terrified.

Thinking of Sydney, though, still made him smile, in spite of the tangled web that was threatening to choke him.

Married. His little girl. The day after tomorrow.

Only- Sloane had more than suggested that she might not be his little girl. And if he didn't somehow get Vaughn out of this mess, then Sydney wasn't going to be married, either. The thought of losing a second fiancé had been enough to send her into hysterics, but he had gotten her calmed down, and then she had extracted that terrible, horrible promise from him that he knew he had to keep, come Hell or high water.

High water.

Of course, he _would_ think of high water. But Vaughn had gotten out of that one, with Jack's help, and now, if Jack had anything to say about it at all, he would get him out of this one, too.

To take his mind off of Vaughn, he thought of Sydney.

She had been on Cloud Nine this past month, planning every little detail with Francie's help, and their gentlemen friends' hindrance. Her wedding dress, due to their haste, wasn't, really, but simply an exquisite white gown that didn't even have a train- just a marvelously simple veil that only her father and Francie had been privileged enough to view. Then it had all been wrapped up and tucked into the back of her closet, although it had taken all of Sydney's willpower not to keep pulling it out and exclaiming over it.

Her father smiled at the memory. So many things in his life were uncertain, but of two things he could be certain- his little girl was Heaven-sent, and she was his. No matter what Sloane babbled on about, no matter who Laura might have been sleeping around with, Sydney was his. He wasn't about to let anybody rob him of those certainties, even Arvin Sloane. _Especially_ Arvin Sloane, he corrected himself.

He still remembered the day Sloane had shown up at their penthouse apartment with a colorful birthday card for Sydney, who had only been four at the time.

"I heard a little girl was having a special day, Jack," he had said, and Jack had wanted to vomit. "I'd like to give this to her, if I may?"

"Daddy!" Sydney had called from the kitchen, and he had used that as an excuse to grab the gift and shut Sloane out. "Daddy," Sydney had sobbed when he joined her, and together they surveyed her culinary efforts, "the cake looks funny!"

"That's all right, Sweetheart," he had said, hugging her, "you tried, and that's what matters."

She had burst into tears nevertheless, but Sloane's gift had cheered her immensely- inside the card was a picture of a pony, and directions on how to get to where he was stabled. Jack had considered asking Arvin if he thought that had been necessary, giving a pony to Sydney without even so much as asking Jack for permission, but one look at Sydney's face when she laid eyes on her new pet had shut her father up for good. She had been all but fearless riding the chubby little creature- she had only asked her father to walk beside her out of pity, seeing his nervous expression at the stable hand's helping her up onto her new pet's back.

He shook his head, smiling now.

Then the car pulled up, wiping the smile from his face.

It was a shiny new Lincoln Town Car, and it had a chauffeured driver. He got out and held a gun on Jack while he moved to open the back door, and a petite, not unattractive woman appeared.

"Laura." Jack's voice cracked. She smiled quite prettily at him.

"Hi, honey, I'm home," she quipped, and he wondered if a person's bile ducts could be overused. If so, his surely would be before this whole fiasco was through.

"You kidnapped Vaughn?" he verified.

"No, Jack, I'm here for my health," she snapped. "Yes, I did. And if you want to see him, he's right here."

She beckoned to the interior of the car, and Vaughn was thrust out abruptly. As far as Jack could see, he was largely undamaged. His hands were free, as was his mouth, and this was pulled into an apologetic frown as Laura arranged him more tidily by the door.

"Stand up straight," she admonished. "I don't want humpbacked grandchildren, Mr. Vaughn." Then she turned to face Jack. "There, you see? I managed to keep my hands off him."

"Yes," he frowned, "but not off everybody, I hear."

"I'm sorry?" she asked, and he was pleased to see that she was truly startled.

"Oh, just something Sloane said to me," he muttered, and as Laura's lip curled in utter revulsion at the name, Vaughn was struck by how similar to her husband she looked at that moment.

"Don't mention his name to me," she spat. "_He_ dragged our daughter into this, Jack. This is all _his_ fault. She was supposed to be _normal_, and he went and _ruined_ her. I _hate_ the man. I _loathe_ him."

"But you didn't always, did you?" Jack pressed. He had to know. For his own peace of mind, he just _had_ to.

"And just what do you mean by that?" Laura was suspicious.

"Just that I got a little phone call from him last week, and he suggested that maybe Sydney was the product of something you and he got involved in years back."

"And you believed him?" her face was suddenly soft. "Oh, Jack- I could never do that to you. Especially with Sloane. Not even in a marriage of convenience, I couldn't . . . no."

"And that's what it was." Jack sighed. Laura's smile was tight.

"Yes. But- I cared for you, Jack, though not in that way. You may have been a fool, but you were a good person. You still are, to come all the way out here just for Mr. Vaughn."

Vaughn might have been hurt by this slur on his worth, but he didn't show it. He was far too fascinated by the exchange between husband and wife.

"But Sydney- she's mine, then," Jack verified, and Laura's smile was now sad, but real.

"She's yours Jack. I'm afraid she's _all_ yours- she must hate me."

"Pretty close to it." Jack observed heartlessly. But- "Why did you take him?" he wanted to know, pointing to Vaughn. "I doubt you wanted to catch up on old times."

"Maybe I had questions, Jack." she said quietly. "Like, what's Sydney's favourite colour? Does she talk in her sleep? Did she have a lot of boyfriends when she was going to school? What did you do for her birthday parties? Things," she almost seemed to momentarily struggle for control over her tone, "a normal mother would know. Maybe I wanted to know those things, Jack, and since she's yours, I had to get you here, somehow, to answer them."

"You could have kidnapped Sydney." Jack pointed out unemotionally. "It wouldn't have been the first time. She could have answered most of those questions herself, and you could have called me to come answer the rest. I would have come twice as fast for her, and I would have waited here forever, no matter how late you were."

"I know," Laura said. "I know all of that, Jack. I was married to you, remember? But kidnapping my daughter once was enough, and the request I have to make is one best not made in front of Sydney."

"What request?" Jack bit off.

Laura took a deep breath. "I- I want to come to the wedding, Jack."

"You _what_?" Jack's fists clenched, and a vein in his neck bulged.

"_Watch your blood pressure, Jonathan_," Laura snapped. "You heard me. I want to come to the wedding. She's my daughter, after all. If barely."

"She'd kill you," Jack said reflectively.

"Don't I know it," and Laura looked suddenly as if she might cry. "But she's mine, too, Jack. And, if for no other reason, you owe me. I didn't kill our future son-in-law, though I easily could have. Twice. I had a clear shot at all three of you when you rescued Sydney, but I didn't take it, and you know it. And," she added, sounding truly disgusted, "you thought I would ever sleep with a man called _Arvin?_ I mean, _honestly_, Jack. I may have let you name our daughter after a metropolis, but I _do_ have _some_ dignity."

Jack's cheek twitched, but that was it. Finally, he spoke.

"Red."

"I'm sorry?"

"Her favourite colour is red."

The facts were coming now- so fast he could hardly spit one put before the next one came along.

"She doesn't talk in her sleep, but she'll sing, sometimes. Nursery rhymes, mostly. She went to an all-girls school, so there wasn't much opportunity for boyfriends, but she managed all right. I was never really there for her while she grew up, but birthdays I did. I did," he almost choked on the lump in his throat, "manage to do birthdays. On her sixteenth birthday, I got her a makeup case. I spent all day picking it out. It had- everything, they told me. She was so thrilled . . . she looked like you, Laura, especially when she was excited. She looked like you more and more each day."

Both parents were looking suspiciously misty as he hurtled on, giving all important dates and occurrences.

"She was so grown up," he recalled, "when I dropped her off at university. She just gave me a little peck on the cheek and she was off. You have no idea how proud I was of her, Laura. How much I loved her. And- how much I wished you were there to see it with me."

"Me, too," Laura said quietly. "Me, too. Every scraped knee I imagined, every little flower she'd pick to wear in her hair- I wished I was there. But I chose my path," she concluded, "and I plan to walk it. I just- I want to see her, Jack. This is the biggest day of all, and I want to be there for her. I can't be there for anything else - I couldn't - but for this, Jack, I want to be. I _have_ to be. You see?"

She was pleading with him- actually pleading with him. Jack hesitated, then looked at Vaughn, who was actually regarding his kidnapper with an intense pity. And Jack Bristow nodded.

O0O0O0O

"Michael!" Sydney gasped, and launched herself at her somewhat bedraggled fiancé, who was coming up the walk. "Mike, are you all right? Where- where's Dad?"

"He had some business to do- yes, I'm fine. But how about you, Syd? How are you?"

"I'm perfect, now," she sobbed, kissing him fiercely. "Just perfect. I love you."

"I love you, too," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her, and for several minutes after, neither said anything at all.

O0O0O0O

"Anything else you want to know?" Jack wondered, as the sun climbed above the horizon.

Laura, seated across from him at a small table in a little all-night coffee shop, shook her head, wearied and satisfied beyond all belief.

"No. I really just wanted to know if she would be happy with him, and I wanted to make sure you'd take care of her. But- once you get that, you get greedy, and you want to know more. I just- I'm just glad you'll be there for them."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he promised her firmly. "She's my daughter."

"Yes," Laura agreed, "she is. In every way, Jack, Sydney is your daughter, I promise you."

"Good." He sighed, and leaned back, rubbing his forehead. "I have- I have the rehearsal dinner today. I should go home and get some sleep."

"I'm sorry," Laura smiled, watching him gather his jacket and get up to go. "And Jack?"

"Yes?"

"I- I don't just mean I'm sorry for keeping you out all night."

He looked at her, and saw that she meant it, and managed a nod. "Thank you."

O0O0O0O

"There you are, Dad!" Sydney beamed, running up to her father. "Where did you run off to last night? I can't-" her voice trembled, but she quickly recaptured control over it, "I can't thank you enough for getting Mike back for me."

"Nonsense," he said, and meant it. "I- Sydney,"

"Mm?"

"Has- has he told you anything about what happened?"

"No, you know, it's the strangest thing. He only said you'd tell me all about it - and I definitely plan on holding you both to that - but not right now, okay? We need to eat."

So they ate, and Jack looked to capture his daughter after the meal, but she somehow eluded him, leaving him sitting alone on the steps of the little chapel.

There he sat, and studied his hands, and thought of his life.

He had regrets - so many regrets he was sure that, for each grey hair on his head, he also had at least ten regrets - but he would not trade in one regret for even a second with his daughter. She was something worthwhile he had done. No matter how many mistakes he had made; how many things he wished desperately that he could take back, she made them all worth it.

And he was so incredibly proud of her.

O0O0O0O

It was her wedding day, and Sydney was reaching for her wedding dress when she saw her. Standing behind her, looking at her in the mirror with thirty years written in her eyes, was her mother.

Then the room went a little dippy for a minute, and the next thing Sydney knew, she was sitting on a low couch and trying to remember what had just happened.

"He didn't tell you I was coming," Laura was saying, trying not to cry, or get angry. "Of all the things that man has done, all the people he's lied to and killed and cheated- he couldn't _tell_ you?"

"Can you blame him?" Sydney asked weakly, taking the water her mother handed her and sipping it cautiously.

"No," Laura sighed, "I guess not. I just thought maybe he would have wanted to save you the shock."

"I'm tough," Sydney said quietly.

"Yes," her mother smiled, reaching out almost hesitantly to touch her daughter's cheek, and struggling even harder not to cry when she flinched, "yes, you certainly are. You have the right background for it, at any rate."

"Yeah," Sydney agreed softly, "I guess I do."

"You had better go get her, now," Francie advised Jack in passing. "They're almost ready to start."

So Jack climbed upstairs to the bridal room, pushed open the door, and- stopped dead.

Sydney, looking more exquisite than he had ever seen her, stood in the center of the room wearing a sleeveless, ivory silk gown, her hair falling into soft curls at her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed and pink, and standing behind her, twirling tiny white forget-me-nots into a crown for her daughter's hair, was Laura Bristow.

"Hi, Daddy," Sydney smiled, looking oddly schoolgirlish for a woman about to commit her entire life to one man, "look who's here."

"Hello, Jack," Laura smiled, and he had never seen her look so content. "Isn't she something?"

Jack didn't speak. He couldn't. Even if he had found the muscles necessary for him to try, he couldn't have. Finally, looking a little uncertain, Sydney urged him, "well, Dad, say something! What do you think?"

"You're beautiful," he said. "You- you're beautiful. And Mike is the luckiest man alive."

Sydney blushed, and Laura nodded her satisfaction. "He's right. Here, let me just get this curl . . ."

Sydney let her, but was watching her father's transfixed face closely. At last she spoke again. "What are you thinking, Daddy?"

"I-" he blushed. "It sounds stupid, even to me, especially after the . . . childhood I gave you, but . . . I feel like I'm losing my- well, my baby."

Sydney laughed, and leaned over to brush his cheek with a light kiss.

"It doesn't sound stupid," she smiled. "It's . . . sweet. Now, come on. You're still planning on walking me down the aisle, aren't you? It's just about time. Do you really think my wedding dress is that pretty?"

"It wasn't the dress I was talking about, Sydney," he smiled, "and you know it."

"Oh no," she laughed, "don't tell me you're going to start _crying_!"

"Not a chance," he said, although his voice was suspiciously husky. "Now, come on," he smiled, holding out his elbow to his daughter, "and dry _your_ eyes. After all, a girl can't cry on her wedding day."

"Yes that's right," Laura muttered, on her way out the door, "I forgot you never knew how close I came."

There was a moment's silence followed by small, genuine smiles, and then as an usher whisked her mother off to a seat by the door, Sydney turned to her father.

"Come on, Dad," she smiled, "let's do this thing already. I've got a fiancé out there who isn't going to wait all day."

Her father looked down at her as Francie approached to hand Sydney her bouquet, and knew that the words he was speaking were truer than any he had ever spoken before.

"Sydney, if he loves you even half as much as I do, then he will wait forever."

She laughed, and as she turned to face the courtyard doors, more than ready for the man who was waiting beyond them, he studied her, his heart threatening to burst with pride. In that instant he knew that, no matter how many regrets he might have had, to have gotten here, and to be privileged enough to be her father, he must at sometime, somehow, have done something right.

Jack Bristow was sure of it.

O0O0O0O

O0O0O0O

Okay, here goes-

The song 'Butterfly Kisses' is one of my favorites, but it doesn't belong to me, it belongs to Bob Carlisle (and I guess it would mean a whole lot more to his daughter coming from him than it would from me, so it's just as well).

Alias, of course, is not mine either (but then, you probably already knew that). It belongs to ABC, Touchtone and was created by JJ Abrams Bad Robot Productions.

If you want to archive/distribute/whatever this, be my guest, just please let me know, and give me credit!


End file.
